Another Voyage
by CookiesForEmmy
Summary: 3 years had flown by for Jean Descole. At last, his journey had ended - which gave him time to do something he had intended to do for a long, long time. *Azran Legacy spoiler warning*


**((*This is not Descole's actual journey after Azran Legacy. That is unknown.**

***Hershel was Descole's birth name, yet we'll refer to him as Desmond for now.))**

Sunset settled over the mountains that towered Froenborg. Only two passengers were aboard the Bostonias now, and as the vehicle's speed grew steady and consistent, the silence between the two was ready to be cracked.

"This is it," he said. "My goal has been reached. After all these years, after all this suffering, I have finally done what I have wanted to do for so long." Desmond - or, by his birth name, Hershel - paused. "But where should I go now?" He scratched his chin in thought. There was little limit to the distances the Bostonias could travel, so it wasn't as if he had no good options. Except he _hadn't_. He didn't want to just travel from country to country all the time - where was the adventure in that?

"It doesn't matter where you go," his butler replied quite hesitantly. "Just follow your heart, Master."

Follow...my...heart? It was hard to follow something that was hidden so well by this disguise shadowing him. Sometimes he even forgot he wasn't Jean Descole, the atrocious masked fiend who controlled people like they were puppets for his own personal gain, time upon time again. The man concealed in grey who would stop at nothing for a treasure with no light shone upon it. _That_ was Jean Descole. Not him. He had a heart. A heart he now needed to follow.

He muttered his butler's name under his breath and waited. "Hm?" The red-clad figure turned. "What was that, Master?"

"Thank you for your input, Raymond," Desmond answered with a smile. "You've reminded me of something very important I need to do."

"And what would that be, Master?"

Jean Descole, once again. The mask was the statement piece of his disguise. "Family matters. We are headed for the south-east of London, Raymond."

* * *

Serenity and grace. Azalea's grave and Lacey's grave.

He had made sure that the two were adacjent when Azalea's was placed, long after Lacey had passed. It seemed that the both of them had been taken good care of over the years. Indeed, it had been years. _At least 3 of them._ Those words bubbled inside Hershel's stomach. He slowly took the bouquet of white lillies from Raymond's grasp and placed them in front of the headstone where they could bathe in winter light.

"It's been a while."

His fingers traced her name. The letters were white and curling - the numbers, too - yet they felt rough and cold to touch. Just another reminder of the beloved one he had lost.

"The past 3 years I have lived have been quite tiring, but I never forgot about you, dear," he said. "No matter how much this disguise sucked me in."

A cool breeze blew.

"Do you hate me for doing this?"

Azalea. Her story ran through his head. In her late twenties, a little younger than Desmond but that bothered him none. She was beautiful - gorgeous, even. Her beauty was just as strong as her intellect, and that's why he had fallen so easily for her. Soon, they were a married couple living together. In a way, Azalea had saved Desmond from the overpowering feel of revenge bubbling inside of him. The revenge to be inflicted upon Targent, that is. Sadly, they weren't married for long. Azalea grew weaker and weaker as she was overcome by a severe illness, and eventually she passed away because of it.

Desmond didn't know who the death had hurt more - Azalea or himself. It still hurt now. Looking down at the ring on his finger even caused pain for him.

_No. I must not cry. Neither of them would have wanted me to._

That's when his final decision was made. He carefully unravelled his boa, removed his mask from his face and lifted his hat from his head, before placing them at one side of the stone in a neat pile and getting to his feet.

"Huh? But Master, without your attire, you're sure to be-"

"I know." It was a soft whisper of a reply. Desmond turned to face Raymond. "But that is how it must be."

"R-Really?"

Tears crept in the side of Desmond's eyes. "You said I should follow my heart, did you not?"

_Follow my heart..._  
_...but forget you not, dear beloved._


End file.
